Just  Off The  Coast To  The  Baltic Sea 
    There'S A Freshwater Pond, Secluded   
 Among Ashen And Juniper. A Cleft  In The 
   Limestone Bedrock, Sharp-Cut From The  
   Surrounding Plains, A Ninety Degree    
 Drop Down, Down,  To The  Midnight-Black 
                  Water.                  
                                          
                          
                                  
     Fairies Live Here.     
                                  
                          
                                          
 They  Speak To  The  Sloane, Caress  It, 
 Urge It  To Grow  Thicker, Tangled, With 
 Longer And Sharper  Thorns. They Tell It 
 To Stay Just  Below  The Grass, So  That 
 The  Animals  What  Come  To  Drink  The 
 Water Cannot  See  It  Before  It  Draws 
 Their  Blood. Closer  To The  Pond,  The 
 Sloane Can Grow  Taller,  Being  Able To 
        Hide Also In The Juniper.         
                                          
 The Fairies  Will Beckon  The Animals To 
 Push  Forward,  Tell Them  That  They'Re 
 Almost  At  The  Water,  That  They  May 
 Drink Soon. And  They  Will  Tug On  The 
 Sloane To Make Sure  That The Thorns Cut 
 Deep. When They  Finally  Find The  Path 
 Down  Between  The Rocks, Away  From The 
 Bushwork And  Into The  Cleft, They  Are 
 Bleeding  From  A  Thousand  Wounds.  As 
 They Drink  From The Dark  Water, It  Is 
 In  Turn  Drinking  The  Animals  Blood. 
                                          
 The  Circle  Is  Complete, The  Contract 
 Carried Out; The Animal Is  Abandoned To 
 Find Its  Own Way Back. The Bushes Roots 
 Drink The Nutrutious Water. The  Fairies 
          Dance In The Sunbeams.